Change In Me
by Araea Swiftwind
Summary: We started out at odds, always hating each other and throwing hurtful words, but when he realized that I suffered too, all of that changed. He might be podgy, and he might be slow, but he protects me, and for that, I love him.
1. Chapter 1

Title: _Change In Me_

Author: Araea Swiftwind

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything contained therein. This story is similar to one I wrote, Why Me?, but it has a completely changed…just about everything after page 6.

Warning: Adult themes, such as **slash** and **abuse**. Also, **INCEST**. I will not be flamed again, thank you very much, because you didn't realize that Dudley and Harry are **related** and this is a story about **them**. It states pretty clearly in the story information that it's **Harry P./Dudley D.** and that it's **Romance**. Get over it or go away.

Pairing: Dudley Dursley/Harry Potter (with minor mentions of Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini)

A/N: This is completely rewritten, from the first paragraph down to the last. All of you who have read this before, please take a moment to go back through and give it another read. I am pretty sure that it's been stepped up several notches from what it was before.

**Chapter One**

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**Dudley**

_Grunt._ "Damn, for someone so little, you sure do weigh a ton," I muttered as I dragged my cousin, Harry Potter, across the lawn of Number 4 Privet Drive towards the back of the house. Harry didn't answer, but I doubt it is because he didn't have anything to say. He was unconscious, thanks to me. Piers chuckled dryly about ten meters off, sitting in wait for me to come around. He was probably laughing because he had hefted Potty before, and the boy only weighed as much as a ten-pound sack of potatoes, though not literally.

When I finally made my way back to the shed with my unconscious burden, me and Piers--though mostly Piers--threw Harry inside. I followed after. Piers was about to as well, but I suddenly stopped him with my large hand on his chest.

"Hey mate, _thanks_ for the help, but I want to teach Potty a lesson all by myself, if you don't _mind_." Piers looked at me oddly, not used to being left out of the torture when we got out hands on Harry, but left us alone all the same. I gave the unconscious Harry a cruel smile before closing the shed door with a rather loud snap, effectively keeping prying eyes and ears away from what was going to happen.

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**Harry**

Groggy blackness filled my mind, as if I were struggling beneath the battering waves of the great black ocean. For some reason, thoughts eluded me. I couldn't tell if I was awake or dreaming, up or down. Shapes were swirling around my head now, but none of them made any sense. Spontaneously, sweaty, pale hands reached towards me and pulled me up to the surface rather forcefully.

Once above water, I took a shuddering breath and started coughing. Dudley laughed at me, and pounded me hard on the back. It didn't stop my coughing. In fact, it aggravated it. Fat water droplets were dripping off of my head, and down my neck. Dudley had decided to wake me up by shoving my head forcefully into a bucket of rainwater Petunia collected to water her garden.

I was sure at first that I was going to die. Dudley had this look on his face like he was going to kill me, and then pick his teeth with my bones. Then, all of a sudden, a smile shoved its way onto his face. "I really had you scared there, didn't I, _Potty_?" Laughing heavily, Dudley moved away from me to fiddle with something in the shadows. I took the moment of his preoccupation to wipe my dripping nose and eyes, clearing them both of the tepid water.

"Hey, Big D. What are we doing in the shed?" I had noticed our location by the bucket of rainwater, and the heavy smell of potting soil in the air. Dudley ignored me and continued rooting around for something, his great arse thrown unflatteringly in the air, making him seem like a wild pig digging for roots. I could hear him grunting and muttering to himself about something, I had no idea what, but it all came together to solidify my comparison.

Finally, after much grunting, moaning, muttering and rooting, Dudley straightened up and turned around. He had a blindfold, a gag, and something long and thick in his hands. It made me nervous. He had the most lecherous look on his face, and I paled considerably. I had a good idea what he was going to do with the gag and the blindfold, but I didn't want to think about what he would do with the long, blunt object.

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**Dudley**

I could see the look of fear in little Potty's eyes as I turned around with my "devices" in hand. I knew he knew what the gag and blindfold were for, but the heavy stick in my hand confused and scared him. I was going to enjoy his torture. I just knew he would scream, and cry, and beg me to stop…but I wouldn't. I want to see little Potty cry out for help, just like I did.

It was last year today that something really bad happened to me. Potty had gone to the park, I guess, to do God knows what. I didn't really care. But, anyway, the guys and I went out to terrorize the kids in the neighborhood. After a few hours of it, I knew it was getting late and I would have to make sure Potty got in on time, or else Dad would start yelling again. And when he yelled, I couldn't hear the telly. Anyways, the guys and I went to the park to check and see if Potty was there, and sure enough he was.

He was sitting alone on one of the swings, his eyes closed and both hands clenched into fists. I could tell that something was bothering him, but the other guys just thought he was daydreaming or something. They started in on him, making fun of him for being such a "girl" and having daydreams. I didn't pick on him right away, in sympathy for whatever was bothering him, but I knew that if I were too nice to him, the guys would get suspicious.

I walked Potty back to the house quickly, shovin' him a bit so that the guys wouldn't think I had gone soft…not that I had or anything. Doesn't matter. Potty and I were just about to walk through the tunnel under the road when some slimeball came up to us. I thought he was interested in Potty, the way he kept looking at us with those creepy Child Molester eyes. But when he shoved Potty away and came at me…I knew he didn't care one wit about stupid Potty.

They slimeball had friends hidin' a bit up the way, and he made sure I got to where they were by herding me there, playing off of my fear of him. The other guys overpowered me and forced me to the ground. I had no idea what they wanted with me. I didn't care. I figured I could take them, so I started fighting. Unfortunately, I look tougher than I am, and I was overpowered once again. I didn't know where Potty was.

I don't like talking about what happened next. It hurts to think about, mostly because I don't really understand why. It should have been Potty who had the men touch him like an object. It should have been Potty who had his pants ripped of and his cheeks spread. It should have been Potty who was forced to suck another man off. It should have been Potty who had been raped… Why would anyone rape someone like me? Freaks like Potty should be the ones who have bad stuff happen to them.

When we got back to Number 4, Harry told Mum and Dad that these…dementoids…had come and done something to me. He never told them the truth, and for that…I guess I was thankful. But I would have been even more thankful if he would have used his stupid _stick_ to stop them from touching me. I would have been really _fucking_ thankful if it would have been him instead of me. Mum and Dad got really mad at Potty after he told them about the dementoids. They didn't really believe him, but when this letter arrived from the freak's Ministry, they new that something freakish had happened. All Harry got was a slap on the wrist…all I got were nightmares.

Movement from Potty broke me out of my inner turmoil. "Where do you think your going, _Potty_?" I sneered at him. He looked up at me from the floor with slight fear in his eyes. He must not have had his precious stick on him. He wouldn't be able to fight me off then. I advanced on him and grabbed his arms in one of mine and pinned him to the floor with my knees taking the place of my hand, freeing me up to do what I needed to. Blindfold first. It only took me a few seconds to get the blindfold on him, and a few more to securely tie on the gag. He wouldn't need it for long…not once I've started on my revenge. It was then I realized I forgot something.

I got off him and go back to my crate of supplies I had hidden in the shadows. I forgot something to tie him up with. I didn't want him to fight me…at least not yet. Finding the length of rope I had, I turned back to him and proceeded to tie his hands together above his head, and I left his legs free. He looked a bit like a human sacrifice and it pleased me.

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**Harry**

I knew something was off when Dudley's eyes went blank for a bit. He must have been thinking about something. Figuring he would be out for a while, I tried to slowly edge my way towards the door. Unfortunately, my moving must have shaken him from his stupor, because he glared at me and sprung into action. He blindfolded me first. Then, he tightly tied the gag around my mouth. It really hurt, as it was biting into the corners of my mouth. It really wouldn't keep me from talking much…but enough that I wouldn't be able to perform any spells…though I had forgotten my wand in the house anyways.

After the gag was in place, I heard Dudley curse softly under his breath and move off somewhere…I guess he must have forgotten something. A second later, he had his hands around my wrists again and was tying me up, with my hands above my head tied to a leg of the potting shelf…I thought. I couldn't be sure of anything with my eyes covered. He left my legs free. I found that odd, but I couldn't really ask about it.

I gasped then, because Dudley was unbuttoning my shirt with rough fingers, fingers that were slightly shaking. I didn't expect it, which made it all the worse. After my shirt was unbuttoned, I could feel my cousin running his fat, sweaty hands over my exposed flesh. It gave me goose pimples…but not because I was enjoying it. I had a sick sense of dread then. I knew where he was going with this. It was the anniversary of his rape…and it was my turn.

Not that I escaped the last time.

The whole time the child molesters were having their fun with Dudley…I had my own attackers to worry about. As soon as the creep who took Dudley had left the opening to the tunnel, some of his buddies came to keep me preoccupied. It only took one of them to get me to the ground, face against the concrete, loose pebbles embedding in my skin. Another one pulled my shirt off and began running a knife slowly and painfully down my back. Yet another took my pants and skivvies off and ran his own blade across my legs and arse. While they were stealing Dudley's innocence, they were taking much more from me. My rapists were taking my pride, my innocence, and my future. The second assailant carved SLAVE into by back, just above my shoulder blades. The third carved the word WHORE into the tender flesh of my arse. I wasn't raped like Dudley was. Oh, no. Mine was much worse. He got the forgiving flesh of his attackers. I got the cold, hard steel of mine's blade.

It cut me open and spilled my blood on the concrete. I couldn't sit comfortably for a month. For Dudley, it was a few days. I never threw it in Dudley's face that he got off easy. I don't think he ever knew. That was fine; let him think what he wants. I lied for him, and told his parents that Dementors attacked us. They believed me when the letter from the Ministry came. The letter came because I used magic to clean up the scene and to heal Dudley. The ministry never found out the truth, but Dumbledore got me off anyway.

It really didn't matter. Nothing mattered after all that I had lost. I would never again be able to live a normal life…in any sense of the word. I was branded a slave…a whore. Branded for the rest of eternity. My wounds still won't heal, the ones in my flesh, or the ones in my heart.

I could still feel Dudley's hands abusing my flesh, pinching my nipples, and scratching at my skin. He must be replicating what he felt that day, and I shuddered to think of how it must've been for him. I grew up with pain, but Dudley…he didn't know how to cope with hurt. He then sucked hard on my neck, and I knew he'd leave a bruise. I just hoped Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia didn't notice. Dudley's mouth moved from my neck down to my chest, sucking and biting my nipples much too hard. It hurt, but not as bad as the first time. Nothing could compare to that pain.

His hot mouth moved down my torso to the waistband of my jeans. I cringed, and I knew he could feel it. I was glad I couldn't see the look on his face. It would break me. I tried to move away from the violation, but I was held fast to the potting table. How ironic. Potty tied to the potting table. Dudley must have thought hard about that one. His mouth was sucking hard around my navel, and it sent sick jolts through my system. I thought I might throw up. I hoped I wouldn't; Dudley might beat me for that, and I had enough scars already.

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**Dudley**

I didn't really like touching Potty like this, but he needed to feel the violation I felt. It wasn't fair that I was the only one who had to suffer. In my anger, I sucked on his neck much harder than I needed too, and I knew it would leave a mark. I hoped Mum and Dad noticed it. Then I moved my mouth down his body to his nipples. They were already hard little nubs before I even got to them. I ignore that and suck and bite them like my captors did to me. I could tell it was hurting him by the way he gasped every time I bit down. I smiled at that.

After I finished with his nipples, I licked and sucked my way down to his belly button. My captors had spent a lot of time down there, and it made me sick. I figured he deserved to feel like that too. I nipped hard at that spot, sucking harder on the soft flesh next to it. I hoped he hated it just like I did.

At the waistband of his jeans, I nipped at the exposed flesh there. I couldn't reach much without taking his pants off, but I wanted to save that for a bit. I moved back up his chest and licked and bit his nipples some more. I was starting to get into it. I think he was too, because the gasps started turning into moans…especially when I would lick him then blow on the wet spot.

Almost entirely on its own, my mouth continued up Potty's body and nipped and sucked at his jaw line. He leaned into the touch, and let out a quiet moan. I started getting angry. He wasn't supposed to enjoy it! I bit him viciously and he started to bleed. It drew a whimper from him. That made me smile.

I leaned back on my knees and I ripped his jeans open. It was time for the pain to begin. I could feel him struggling, and I hit him across the face to make him stop. It wasn't time for him to move yet. With Potty's pants around his ankles, I used my pocketknife to cut his skivvies off. He wouldn't need those.

His penis was a decent size, but not as big as mine. It was trying to hide from me, I was sure. I leaned over and nipped hard at the flesh at the crease of his leg. He gasped and started whimpering more. It just brought a smile to my face. He would suffer. Then, I moved to the other crease and nipped there too. It made him whimper louder, and me smile wider.

I used a hand to grab his prick. I squeezed pretty hard, and I guess it really hurt because tears sprung to Potty's eyes and dampened the blindfold. I laughed, and pumped my hand up and down his limp member. When I leaned down and nipped at that too, it jumped a little in my hand. That was when I learned that Potty has a thing for pain. So I bit him. Not on the prick, even I'm not that mean. But I bit his thigh, and his penis jumped up a bit more. I pinched his nipples hard, and it stood proudly at attention. The tears were coursing down his face.

I laughed again at the sight. Harry Potter's prick was in my hand, and it was stiff, and he was crying. Suddenly, I shoved his prick in my mouth. I didn't know why I did it—the creepy guys didn't do that to me—but I did. He cried out as best as he could with the gag in his mouth. I decided to take some pity on him, so I cut the gag off too. Each time I stuffed him in my mouth like a bulging sausage, he cried out. After a while, it turned into pleasured moans.

I ignored that fact because I was enjoying myself too. I made my mouth into an "O" shape and I bobbed my head up and down. A clear, salty liquid was coming out of the slit at the top of his prick, and it tasted good. I wanted more of it in my mouth. So I sucked. Like a vacuum cleaner. And Harry cried out in pleasure, thrusting his hips into my mouth. I used a hand to hold him down. I slowly pulled him out of my mouth and blew my warm breath on him. He shuddered in pleasure.

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**Harry**

I was crying bitter tears. I hated myself so much. I was enjoying it. Each and every time Dudley engulfed me with his hot, wet mouth, I cried out in pleasure…but a little bit of me died inside. My cousin was raping me…and I enjoyed it. His hands were running over my fevered body. I was writhing beneath him. After he took off the gag, I was more vocal in my pleasure.

But something was still off. I wanted to see him. I wanted to know if he was enjoying this too. "Please…Dudley…the blindfold." I begged him. He took it off of me carefully, and I blinked a bit to clear my vision. I could see his flushed face, his open, panting mouth, and my precum on his lips. It intoxicated me. I began thrusting up into that delicious looking mouth, wanting him to suck me off forever. He used one meaty hand to hold me down at the hips, and the other to fondle my balls. I thought I was going to die. Of pleasure.

We went on like that for a while. He was sucking on me hard. Not hard enough to really hurt, but hard enough to make me want to cum in his mouth. I didn't though. It would take more than that to get me off. I think he must have known that, because soon he was trying to shove a thick finger into my arse. I cried out in pain. His finger was dry and it was aggravating my old injuries.

I gasped out, "Dudley…it needs…lubrication." He looked shocked for a minute, then he shoved two of his large fingers into my mouth. I sucked on them like sea salt ice cream. When he thought that they were slick enough, he tried to shove one inside me again. I tensed up, afraid of how it would feel. I think that might have reminded him that I wasn't supposed to be enjoying this, because he got a mean glint in his eyes and just kept on shoving.

It hurt, really badly. His shoving caused the old, barely healed knife wounds to open up again. I cried out in pain. The blood added to Dudley's saliva and made his finger slide into me easier. It also made his saliva burn the open cuts. Without giving me a chance to adjust or stretch with the first finger, her shoved another one inside. More of the old wounds opened again, and I screamed. It felt like I was being raped with the knives all over again.

After only a few seconds of Dudley's rough preparation, something hard and cold was pressed against my bleeding entrance. It didn't feel like Dudley's prick. And that was when I remembered…the long, blunt object he had been carrying earlier. That thing was huge, and would surely rip me open anew.

I'm sure Dudley saw the fear on my face because he laughed. I was terrified. He was going to kill me with that dildo. I would be dead from blood loss by the time he was finished punishing me for something I didn't know I did. I shuddered at that thought. I wasn't ready to die yet. I still had to defeat Voldemort.

Dudley pulled the dildo away from my arse and I thought he had spared me. But I was wrong. He merely flipped me over on my stomach with my arse in the air, viciously twisting my arms above me, and ripped my shirt all the way off. Then he gasped. The spells must have worn off.

I had placed glamour charms on myself so that no one would ever be able to see the shame that I lived with. Dudley's saliva-and-blood coated fingers traced the word SLAVE across my shoulders. With his other hand, he softly traced the word WHORE across my arse. I didn't know what he would do when he saw them, but being so gentle wasn't even a consideration.

"Potty…how did you get these?" Dudley asked me quietly. I turned my head away from him in the dirt and the tears began to fall, mixing mud beneath my face. I didn't want to think about it again. I didn't want to tell him that he wasn't the only one who lost something a year ago.

Dudley spoke more firmly, "Harry, where did you get these scars?" He poked hard at the words carved into my skin. I cried out in pain, as the wounds were as fresh as they were a year ago and seeping blood.

"It doesn't matter, Dudley. Just…just finish what you were doing so I can forget about everything."

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**Third Person**

Dudley sat behind Harry and thought about things. Harry obviously didn't want to talk about anything, but Dudley wasn't giving up. "Harry James Potter, you better tell me how and where you got these words carved into you, or I'm gonna pound you!"

Harry wasn't afraid of Dudley's beating, but he was far too tired to keep hiding from his cousin's questions. He looked down and started speaking softly. "I got them a year ago today, Dudley."

Dudley was shocked into silence. He didn't…he never…why? Dudley sat back on the floor with a thud, oblivious to the fact that he was then eye level with Harry's bleeding entrance. Harry curled into himself, wincing when his abused rectum came in contact with the floor.

"Can you untie me, Dudley? Please…" Harry whispered brokenly. He hurt, everywhere, but he didn't want Dudley to know that. He just wanted to run to the cupboard under the stairs and lock himself away for all eternity.

At his cousin's whispered words, Dudley looked up. That was when he noticed, really noticed, all of the blood dripping out of Harry. He rocked forwards on his knees and used his pocketknife to cut the rope around Harry's wrists. Instead of letting his younger cousin leave, he pulled him close.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't know. I thought you had abandoned me then. I thought you might have been watching, but not helping me. I never…I never imagined that they got you too. Please forgive me, Harry." Dudley held the boy close and whispered into his hair. Harry melted into the embrace and started crying heavily. He needed the comfort after being neglected for so long. He craved it. And he didn't even flinch when Dudley lifted his head and placed a chaste kiss to his lips.

The boys embraced each other, Harry moving so that he was straddling his older cousin, and Dudley wrapping his arms more securely around the smaller boy in his arms. They kissed desperately, passionately. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies. Somehow, the innocent comfort Dudley was giving Harry had turned into something more heated, but when Dudley's fingers brushed against Harry's scars firmly, the smaller boy whimpered in pain, causing his older cousin to stop in his tracks.

"Harry, are you okay?" Dudley asked, true concern molding his facial features. The dark haired boy shuddered and merely buried his face in the flabby torso of his cousin. The pain was all too fresh and raw; he didn't think that he'd be able to talk without sobbing uncontrollably. Dudley moved his hands to untouched flesh and began rubbing soothing circles there instead, hoping that it would calm Harry down.

Taking in deep breaths, trying to modulate his breathing enough so that he could talk, Harry said, "I think I'll be okay, Dudley. You don't have to hold me like this, you know. Why are you anyways? Not five minutes ago you were raping me…" The black haired boy turned his eyes away from his cousin and leaned back a little, though not actually taking himself from the other's grasp.

Dudley shrugged and pulled Harry close again. "It doesn't matter why I decided that you didn't deserve me hurting you like that. Just…just be glad that I'm not anymore, okay?"

"But why? You've never been nice to me. Why now, when you have the perfect opportunity to make fun of me fore being a whore?"

"You'll _never_ be a whore. What those…arsebuckets did to us…especially to you…that doesn't make you a whore. Harry…you're hurt…and some of that hurt _I_ did to you. I can't…can't stand to see you like this. At first, it was making me happy…because I thought that you were finally hurting like I was hurt. But now…knowing what I do…" he stopped and shuddered, looking away. "I feel like a villain."

Harry scoffed and turned to look at Dudley, making the larger boy look at him in return. "That's never stopped you before."

"I didn't care about you before."

"And you do now?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because…you deserve it…or something."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Dudley blushed a little and tried to look away, but Harry's hand on his face prevented it. "I just mean that you deserve someone to care about you. But, you probably don't deserve me."

"What, you too good for stupid little Potty?" Harry spit out scathingly.

"No! That…that's not what I meant. I meant…" a sigh, "I'm no good, Harry, and you…you're perfect. Why do you think I hated you all those years?"

Harry scoffed again, sure that he was hearing things. "Me? I'm nowhere near perfect. You, on the other hand… Sure, I guess you could lose a little weight and grow a few brain cells…but you've got parents, friends, everything you could ever want. What do I have? The words **whore** and **slave** carved into my body, deep knife wounds in my arse, a bloody scar on my forehead, and a rogue wizard after me, trying to kill me every year because when I was a baby my mum saved me and I happened to survive through the killing curse when no one had ever done that before and there's some stupid prophesy about be being Voldemort's equal and he actually believes that shite and so he wants me dead. That's all I've got."

Dudley didn't understand that last sentence, mostly because it was all said in one breath, but he did know one thing. "Harry, you might not have parents, but I'm sure you have friends. And, I don't have everything I could ever want. I want natural talent, people to care about me for me, and not because I can beat them up, and…now don't tell mum or dad, but I'd love to be a wizard like you. You can do things with your stick thing…you can make people like you that way…I can only do that with my fists."

At first, Harry was flattered by Dudley's statement, but when the large boy started talking about making people like him with magic, Harry was turned off.

"You sound like Draco Malfoy now. Ugh." Pushing himself up, Harry shakily stood up and winced as a sharp pain ran through his rectum and up through his back. His legs were stiff as well, making it hard for him to stand. Seeing his pain, Dudley jumped up to help him.

"Do you have a rag? I'm bleeding still, and I'd like to clean up so that there's a chance that I can go back in the house."

"No, sorry. How are you gonna go back anyways…you're close are kinda…ripped."

Harry looked around the shed and noted his torn shirt in one corner, his torn pants in another, and his shredded skivvies lying on top of the potting table. "You know, I haven't the foggiest. Could you, maybe, go and grab me something? I can't stay in here all night."

Dudley looked nervous for a moment, then straightened up. "I'll see what I can do. Mum and dad might wonder what I'm doing with some clothes when I'm heading back outside…"

"That's all I ask. And thanks…"

"For what, raping you?"

"No, stupid, for stopping. And…for holding me while I cried."

_Grunt_. "Whatever. I'll be back as soon as I can with something."

"Okay."

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Vernon was sitting on the sofa watching a bit of late afternoon telly. It was a balmy Saturday, and he didn't have to work. His lovely wife Petunia sat on the chair knitting a new scarf for her "Diddydums", even though in the summer heat no one really wanted to think about winter. Both were so absorbed in what they were doing that they didn't notice Dudley run through the room.

It wasn't until Dudley ran back down the stairs with one of his tighter shirts and his tightest pair of pants that Vernon took any notice of his son. When he saw what the boy had in his hands, he spluttered a bit before he found his voice. "What are you doing with your clothes, boy? Your mother just washed those."

Dudley knew that if he didn't think of something quickly, Harry was going to be trapped out in the shed all night. In a moment of brilliance, he said, "Why are you questioning me, Daddy? I thought I could do whatever I wanted?" He turned to his mother, who he knew would never speak against him. "Mummy, Daddy's being mean to me."

On cue, Petunia turned her gaze to her husband and said, "Vernon, dear, let Dudley do whatever it is that he was doing."

"But Pet, he's taking his freshly cleaned clothes outside…and it just rained yesterday. Even this ungodly heat couldn't have evaporated all of the mud out in the garden."

Upon hearing about all of the dirt and mud that could get on those freshly cleaned clothes, Petunia pursed her lips. "You know, Diddydums, your father has a point. Go on upstairs and play that new game that Daddy got you yesterday."

Dudley knew he was sunk, so he turned around and sulked upstairs. Harry would just have to deal with being stuck outside all night. Dudley hoped that the smaller boy would be okay.

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That night, a cold front moved in and the temperature dropped fifty degrees. It went from 96° to 46° in a matter of hours, and Harry was left in the shed with no clothes and nothing to cover himself up with. It was a hard night for the boy, but he was determined not to let it bother him. But things looked different when morning rolled around.

Dudley, too worried about Harry to sleep for long, climbed out of bed as soon as the first rays of light brightened up the Eastern sky. Pulling on his clothes for the day, he picked up the same things he had grabbed yesterday and ran—as quietly as his large, gelatinous form could manage—down the stairs and out to the back garden. He was sure that he'd be caught before he managed to make it outside, but he lucked out; unbeknownst to him, his parents were having sex and paying no mind to noises made outside their own room.

Once Dudley made it out to the shed, he threw open the door and looked inside. Harry was curled up on his side, still naked and shivering. His skin felt like ice and his lips were faintly tinged blue. When Dudley first called his name, his smaller cousin was unresponsive. Moving quickly, the large boy went to Harry's side and tried shaking him awake. The raven-haired boy's head lolled to the side, but his brilliant green eyes opened slowly.

"Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't come back last night. Mum and dad had a fit about me taking clean clothes out in the muddy garden. So, I came as soon as I could. Are you okay?"

Harry took a moment to wet his lips with whatever saliva he could find in his mouth so that he could respond. "Uh…a little cold, but I'll survive. Handled worse than this before. Did…did you bring clothes?"

"Yeah, here," the blonde boy thrust the clothes in Harry's direction, but hit himself on the forehead when he realized that his cousin was much too stiff and cold to dress himself. "Hey, let me help you, okay? It'll go faster that way, and then we can get you inside."

Harry nodded his messy black head and helped Dudley as much as he could, lifting his arms when needed, and aiding the larger boy in standing him up to slip the pants on. Even though Dudley was all for helping his cousin now, he still took the opportunity to poke fun at the smaller boy's weight and the bruises around his hips. Harry merely rolled his eyes, however, and let his cousin have his fun.

Once they were finished dressing Harry, Dudley supported most of his weight and they moved as swiftly as they could across the damp, dew-covered lawn and into the quiet house. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley had long since finished having sex, and were lying restlessly awake, listening to the noises of the night. It was Dudley's fourth step on the stairs that squeaked. In no time, Petunia was up and had her robe wrapped tightly around her, Vernon hot on her heels. They knew that if anyone was moving about at night, it was the freak, and he would pay for stepping a toe out of line.

Dudley winced slightly at the noise, and the two stopped for a moment to listen and see if Vernon and Petunia had heard the noise. Harry was the first to hear the slight closing of a door upstairs, and told Dudley to turn around and hid them somewhere. Unfortunately, Dudley wasn't the smartest, and took them into the kitchen, but there wasn't any place to hide in the clean white room.

Petunia and Vernon entered only moments later, arms crossed. Vernon had flipped the light switch once they came to it, and the unexpected light momentarily blinded Harry. For the first time in his life, Harry was thankful that Dudley was there with him, knowing he couldn't get into too much trouble with his cousin literally supporting him. He was shown that his thanks were misplaced almost immediately.

Dudley, for the fist time in _his_ life, worried that he was going to get in trouble. In momentary panic, not sure of what would happen if he were punished, he did the natural thing…he blamed Harry.

"Mum, Dad, I found the freak trying to sneak into the house when I came downstairs for a midnight snack! I was just going to bring him upstairs to you when you got here." Dudley abruptly let go of Harry, and the cold, weak boy fell unceremoniously to the floor. Even if he weren't cold, though, he would have lost his footing. He thought that he and Dudley had reached an understanding, but he was shown how horribly he had been wrong.

Petunia got a sick light in her eye that told Harry that he was going to be severely punished. "And just _where_ were you, _young man_, until three o'clock in the morning?"

Vernon's neutral expression turned into a sadistic smile, and he rubbed his two beefy hands together, just waiting for Harry's answer. Harry gulped and looked down at his feet. He didn't know what he should tell them. Either he could make up a lie, and get punished worse for lying, or he could tell a version of the truth that might make his Aunt and Uncle a little bit happier. In the end, Harry thought that he'd rather have the extra punishment than give the Dursleys anything.

"I snuck out this afternoon and went to meet with some of my friends. We went out to an abandoned field and flew on broomsticks. Then, we took out our wands and cast magical spells on little kids that were screaming at us for riding on our brooms. I even turned Piers into a toad." Harry knew that the lie seemed far-fetched and highly implausible. He also knew that it was stupid to taunt the Dursleys because his punishment would be far worse.

Petunia's face scrunched up like it did when she had to wash Vernon's stained underwear and she tightened the arms around her chest. Any mention of magic to her was apparently an olfactory assault, as well as an auditory one. Almost imperceptibly, she turned to Vernon as if to ask what he would like to do with the disgusting _thing_ standing in front of them.

The sadistic smile on his face only widened.

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Harry awoke some undefined amount of time later in a small, dark space. _So, it's to be the cupboard, is it?_ He didn't actually mind all that much, as he was familiar with this cramped space, and it kind of felt like home if anywhere other than Hogwarts did. Though he was smaller than the average boy his age, he was still getting a little on the large side for the small space. _Oh well, so I can't stretch out all the way. It's not like I haven't dealt with worse. But, I wonder when they're going to let me out…_

The dark haired teen fiddled with the hem of Dudley's shirt and noted the quality. _These are…new clothes. There aren't any holes or tears. And they're clean, or at least were clean before I was thrown into the cupboard._ Harry took a tentative sniff of the part of the shirt closest to his nose and gave a faint smile. _Even so, they still smell like Dudley._ The smile fell off of Harry's face.

_I can't believe he did that to me. He just…just let me take all the blame. He's the one who tried to rape me in the potting shed. He's the one who left me out there all night, cold and alone, with no clothes and no way to come inside. He's the one who abandoned me. And yet…I'm still the one left to suffer the consequences._

A rattling sound startled Harry out of the angry tirade in his head and forced his to focus outside himself. A tiny sliver of light gradually grew larger as the door was pulled open. Dudley was there on the other side, cautiously peering around before looking in at Harry.

"Hey. Hurry up and come out here so that you can get something to eat and use the loo, before Mum and Dad get back from their movie."

Harry glared. "Why should I trust you? You turned on me. This might just be another one of your ploys to get me into trouble. I'm already in a heap of it; I don't need more."

The large teen wrung his hands and looked sheepish. "Look, I'm sorry that I'm such a coward. I thought…I thought I'd get in trouble for being with you, and I panicked. I don't…know how to deal with being in trouble. And, well, until two days ago, I hated you and always blamed everything on you. It's become something of a natural reaction to point at you."

Harry resolutely looked away from his cousin, knowing that if he didn't, he'd have to cave. But he wanted to stay mad at the boy, to remember that he hurt him. "Go away, Dudley. I don't need your 'help'. I can handle whatever your parents throw at me, without _you_."

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Dudley flinch as if he were struck. That was all it took for Harry to finally give in.

"Okay, fine, I'm not mad anymore. But, really, I'm fine, too. I don't want you getting yourself into trouble, because you're right, you wouldn't know how to handle it. Just, go play video games or something. I'll survive."

Dudley didn't look like he wanted to do as Harry said, but the car coming up the drive made the decision for him. With slow hands and a heavy heart, the blonde boy closed the door on his cousin once more. Before it was all the way shut, he whispered, unsure of whether Harry would hear him or not, "I'll come back for you. This time, I promise."

Harry rolled his eyes at his cousin's dramatics, but sighed happily anyways. He really cared for the oaf, even if the boy wasn't the smartest or the fastest. He was still _his_, even with this current fiasco. Shifting positions, Harry tried to get comfortable. At least he had learned one thing from Dudley that he really had wanted to know. He'd been locked in the dark for one day already, and with the way that Dudley was talking, it didn't look like Vernon or Petunia were going to let him out any time soon. In his shifting, his foot hit something metal in the corner. A bucket. _Great, so I won't even be let out to use the loo._

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dudley knew he had to do something, and he had to do something soon. It had already been a week that Harry had been locked in the cupboard, and his mum and dad didn't look like they even remembered Harry was in there. Two of the days last week Dudley had managed to sneak Harry some food, but his parents weren't gone long enough to let Harry stretch his legs or use the loo. But that just wasn't enough. He needed to come up with a plan to get Harry safely away from the house.

The answer came, unbeknownst to him, two days later. Petunia and Vernon were planning a special weekend getaway, just the two of them, and they needed a sitter for Harry and Dudley. As much as Petunia wished that there was someone better, there wasn't, and so she was forced to call in Arabella Figg from down the street to watch her sweet little Diddydums.

Dudley didn't know it, though Harry did, that Mrs. Figg was a member of the Order of the Phoenix, and therefore could help Harry escape from Privet Drive. When the older woman arrived, Harry was still locked in the cupboard and Petunia and Vernon were just putting the finishing touches on their attire. Vernon grabbed his keys and gave a stiff nod to Arabella, always thinking there was something off about a lady with so many cats. Petunia, on the other hand, gave a fake smile and clasped the woman's hand to welcome her in. She gave strict instructions on how the odd woman was to take care of Dudley, making no mention of Harry, then swept out of the door after her husband. Then, the house was quiet.

"Well, Dudley, this is a first. I don't believe I've ever been called on to watch you before. And you're a bit old for needing a sitter, aren't you?" Arabella's slightly wrinkled face tightened minutely in a smile.

Dudley was put off his guard a little, but eventually remembered his manners and smiled back. "Mum and Dad usually take me along whenever they go someplace. But, it's their anniversary, so I guess they wanted to be alone. And, I'm sixteen now, ma'am, a bit old for a sitter, yeah." Mrs. Figg just smiled again and bustled into the kitchen to make a spot of tea.

"And where is Harry, young man? I didn't see him leave with your parents, but your mother didn't tell me what to do with him. Is he all right?"

Dudley knew that his parents wanted Harry's whereabouts to remain a secret, but he also knew that he wasn't smart enough to get help for Harry on his own. He took the chance and showed Mrs. Figg where his cousin was.

She was shocked when she saw Harry curled up on his side in the small cupboard under the stairs, a half-full bucket of urine at his feet and spider webs festooning the ceiling. She quickly turned away to dab at her eyes with her handkerchief. Dudley didn't know if that was a good sign or a bad one, but he knew that he was going to let Harry out now whether the old bat liked it or not.

"Hey, come on, Harry. Mum and Dad're gone for the weekend, and Mrs. Figg is here to keep an eye on us. You can come out now."

Harry rolled over to look at Dudley, a week being more than enough time to make him forget a little what made him forgive his cousin. When he saw the large boy, a small, genuine smile crawled across his face and his heart melted a little. It was when he saw a crying Mrs. Figg behind Dudley that the smile fell.

"Dudley, what happened to Mrs. Figg?" There was accusation in his eyes, and it stung Dudley to know that his cousin didn't fully trust him.

"She just started crying when she saw you in there. So come out, already."

Harry looked down in shame, as he slowly stood up, almost falling back down when the muscles in his legs refused to cooperate. Dudley threw out a hand to help steady him. Mrs. Figg made a small noise, almost like a gasp and a whimper, and her hands fluttered as though she wished to help as well.

"Oh, Harry, how long," she stopped for a minute to make her voice stop trembling. "How long have you been in that cupboard, dear?"

Harry busied himself with dusting off Dudley's spare clothes that he was wearing so that he didn't have to look at her sad expression.

"Um, I don't really know. It's all darkness in there, I can't really keep time well." It almost physically hurt him to say those words to the kindly Mrs. Figg.

Dudley saw the pain hidden on his cousin's face and decided that he needed to help him, _now_, or else they wouldn't ever get him out. "Mrs. Figg, Harry's been locked in that cupboard for more than a week now. I've been trying to get him out when I could, and I bring him food sometimes, but Mum and Dad don't like me helping him. They hate him, and if he doesn't escape from here, then he's gonna stay locked in there until he dies!"

Arabella gasped and covered her mouth with her handkerchief, but Harry just snorted.

"Dudley's being over dramatic, Mrs. Figg. I wouldn't die, and they couldn't keep me locked in there for that long. My birthday is in three more weeks, and Dumbledore always comes to get me at my birthday."

Seeing that Mrs. Figg looked faint, Harry convinced his underused legs to carry him over to the woman and help her to a seat at the table. He then finished making the tea and poured three cups, one of each of them. Motioning to Dudley, the large boy went and grabbed the biscuits that his parents served to their guests and the three sat down at the table.

"So, Mrs. Figg, Dudley is right about one thing. I can't stay here anymore. I might not die, but I am being tortured. I need to get out of this place before my mind breaks and I go on a killing spree like Voldemort. Do you think you can help me? Can you contact Dumbledore, or other members of the Order, and have them come get me?"

"Oh, I don't know Harry. Dumbledore would rather you stay here, I'm sure, even with the way your relatives have been treating you lately. But, give me a few days, and I'll see what I can do. I think you boys are old enough to keep yourselves for the night. I'm going to head home and feed the cats. I'll see you boys in the morning." Mrs. Figg wasted very little time setting her cup in the sink and making her way out of Number 4 and on to her own home.

Dudley gave a slightly awkward look to his cousin, then said, "So, what do you want to do? We have the whole house to ourselves, and you're not stuck in the cupboard. We can do anything you want."

"I think I want a nice dinner, then a lie-down. I don't get to sleep well in that small, cramped space, and the smell of ammonia in the urine burns my nose."

"Oh, ok. Well…I think Mum left some food in the fridge, and she always leaves me a little money when she goes out anywhere. Do you want something here, or do you want take-away?

Harry stopped and though about that for a few minutes. It'd probably be faster if he just made something for dinner, but he'd never had take-away either.

"Ya know, I think I'd like to try some take-away. Do you know of some places?"

"Yeah, sure. Over at Piers' they always eat out. Do you want pizza, or Chinese?"

"Um…Chinese, I think. Never had that before. I don't know what to eat from a place like that. Why don't you just order for us both?"

"Okay, it'll take about thirty minutes to get here, so why don't you go have a bath or watch some telly or something while I order?"

Harry smiled at his cousin, moving closer to the boy so that he could run the back of his hand down his face. "When you're finished calling, why don't you join me? I'll be upstairs."

Dudley's podgy face got it's own smile, and dirty thoughts started swirling in his mind. "Sure thing. Be up in a few."

"Looking forward to it."

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**End Chapter 1**


	2. Chapter 2

Title: _Change In Me_

Author: Araea Swiftwind

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or anything contained therein. This story is similar to one I wrote, Why Me?, but it has a completely changed…just about everything after page 6 of the first chapter.

Warning: Adult themes, such as **slash** and **abuse**. Also, **INCEST**. I will not be flamed again, thank you very much, because you didn't realize that Dudley and Harry are **related** and this is a story about **them**. It states pretty clearly in the story information that it's **Harry P./Dudley D.** and that it's **Romance**. Get over it or go away.

Pairing: Dudley Dursley/Harry Potter (with minor mentions of Draco Malfoy/Blaise Zabini)

A/N: So, for all of you who read a version of this chapter last night or earlier today, I'm sorry for that. It was rubbish, I know. But this one is a whole lot better, and there's smut! Hooray. I hope you like this edited version. I had my beta look over it last night, and he agreed with me that the last version pretty much fell apart at the end and was horrid. So, I rewrote the last page or two and made it longer, adding in the smut scene everyone has been waiting for and hopefully reaching a place where people will want to read on. Review if you like it.

**-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**Third Person**

Mrs. Figg came back in the morning with a grave face. "I spoke to Dumbledore last night, and though he is sorry for the way that the Dursleys have been treating you, he thinks it's best that you stay here. They won't kill you, and you would be much safer staying here than you would be either at Headquarters or at the Burrow."

"And why can't I stay at Hogwarts? I'd be safest there. At least in the castle, he can make sure that no Death Eaters get me, and I won't be abused."

"I'm sorry, Harry, but when I raised the same question, he told me that it is only himself and Severus at the castle at the moment, and both are far too busy to keep an eye on a mischievous young man. It's already been decided that you will stay here for the rest of the summer."

"What? I don't even get to leave at my birthday?"

"I'm afraid not. The number of raids and attacks by Death Eaters has increased this summer. It seems as if the Dark Lord is looking for you. It would be too dangerous to move you now. You will simply have to stay."

Harry kicked his toe at the rug in the parlor and scowled at the offending patterns. It just wasn't fair that he'd have to suffer torture all summer just because of some stupid blood wards that didn't even keep him unplottable and weren't ever proven to keep Death Eaters out. If Dumbledore and the rest of the Order weren't going to help him, he'd just have to find a way to escape on his own. The first thing he'd have to do would be to get to Diagon Alley.

"Ok, thanks for trying, Mrs. Figg. Would you like some tea? Or maybe I could fix you something to eat?"

"Oh no, dear, that's quite all right. I just wanted to check in on you and let you know about my conversation with Dumbledore. But I think that now that it's done, I'll return home. If you need anything, dears, just let me know." Again, Mrs. Figg hurried home without another word.

"Well, that sucks. What are we going to do, Harry?"

"I'm going to pack up some things and then head to Diagon Alley. Once I grab a few galleons, I can change them to muggle money and find myself a place to stay in London. No one from the order really checks up on me anyways, so it should be no problem if I'm gone the rest of the summer."

"But, what about me? You aren't just going to leave me behind, are you? I don't even know where this Diagon Alley is. And what's a galleon?"

Harry shook his head with a smile, and placed a hand on Dudley's shoulder. "Dud, you can't come with me. You're a muggle, and your parents will miss you if you're gone. But no one, other than you, will miss me."

"But, I thought…last night…that we…" The plump boy sighed and looked away sadly. "Didn't you like it?"

"Of course I did. But that doesn't mean I can take you with me. Dud…I love you, but you would be missed, like I said. Don't take this like I'm leaving you."

Dudley sneered and turned to face Harry, a hard glint in his eye. "Oh, but you are leaving me, Potty. You don't want fat, ugly Dudley anymore, so you're running away from him to your freaky places, doing freaky things…without him. I see how it is. I see." By the end of his harshly flung words, Dudley had lost some of the stiffness that was holding him up. His shoulders hunched in, and his head fell down, and he turned away to hide the few tears that were leaking out of his blue eyes.

Harry would have none of it, though, and he marched up to his cousin and punched him in the shoulder. "Stop being such a selfish arse. I'm not leaving you; you dumb git. Merlin! Fine, whatever, you can come. I'd miss you too much to leave you behind anyways. But don't you ever accuse me of not loving you again, ya great arse. Go pack a trunk, just one, and we'll go after I make lunch."

Dudley half-turned towards Harry and the smallest smile bloomed on his face. "Ok."

Harry mumbled something under his breath and went to go make lunch. He made more than he knew Dudley would eat so that they would have something for them to eat while they were out in Diagon Alley. As Harry was finishing up the last sandwich, Dudley came banging down the stairs, obviously lugging a trunk with him. There was an especially loud thunk by the door, then Dudley entered the dining room.

"Mm, sandwiches. I'm starved."

In two bites, Dudley had a whole ham sandwich scarffed down. He wasted no time in eating three more, little bits of bread and ham stuck to his bottom lip. Harry smiled and leaned in close to Dudley, startling him enough to make him stop eating. The blue eyes went slowly cross as Harry kept coming. Finally, the green eyed boy stopped moving closer and swiped his moist pink tongue against the full bottom lip of Dudley's mouth, sweeping up the remnants of sandwich that the blonde boy had left.

"'Mm,' indeed."

Dudley blushed, a rare sight for anyone to see, but Harry merely smiled instead of gloating. He liked the soft pink dusting across his cousin's cheeks, and he wouldn't do or say anything that might make it go away.

"Well, aren't you going to eat? You're already too skinny to starve yourself, especially since my parents were doing that for you."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah, I'll eat. I just like watching you."

"I eat like a pig…"

"So, even pigs can be cute."

"Are you calling me cute? Because if you are, I don't know if I like it."

"Maybe."

"What do you mean, 'maybe?'"

Harry chuckled once more, leaning forward from his own chair to pick up a small sandwich. "Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. You can take it however you like it."

Dudley scowled, but said nothing more. The two boys continued to eat in relative silence, though Dudley did attempt to eat more like a human boy and less like a "cute pig."

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"So, when I hold up my wand, the Knight Bus will come hurtling out of nowhere and stop in front of us. With what's left of the galleons I had last term at Hogwarts, I can buy us a couple of tickets. But I don't have a whole lot left over, so we'll have to head straight to Diagon Alley and Gringotts. There, I can pick up some money, and then we can go out and find a place in London. Would you like that, Dud? Just you and me in a flat in London? Maybe something overlooking the Thames?"

"Sure, Harry, but…what's a galleon, you never told me? And where's this Diagon Alley? And what's Gringotts and why do they have your money? How do you have money?"

Harry shrugged off most of Dudley's questions, but answered the couple he wanted to. "Gringotts is in Diagon Alley, which is in London. I have money because my parents left it to me after they were killed."

Dudley nodded, then stopped. "Wait, I thought Mum said your dad killed them because he was driving drunk and they got in a car accident."

"Don't you remember when that large man came to get me on my eleventh birthday? When you got that pig tail? He was so mad at your parents for lying and saying my parents were killed in a crash. That's because my mum and dad died trying to protect me when I was just a baby. There's this psycho out there," Harry gestured widely to incorporate the world, or at least the entire island of Great Britain, "and he's after me. He's been trying to kill me since I was born, because someone let loose to him about a prophesy we're in together. It's not important."

Dudley shook his head. "It is important, but we can save this conversation for later. I _do_ want to know all about you and this…weird world you're from, but I want you to be safe more. And I don't think standing here on the street corner in the middle of Little Whinging while there is a psycho out there is the way to do that."

"No, you're right. I'll hail the Knight Bus, then we can go."

"Ok."

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**Dudley**

The Knight Bus, as Harry called it, was a giant triple-decker bus in the shade of bright purple. Frankly, it scared me when I first saw it, but after taking several deep breaths, I got on with our trunks and didn't pass out. There were rows and rows of seats, almost more than looked like could fit from the outside. It was so weird. When I asked Harry about it, he told me that it was something called, "Wizard's Space." I didn't really know what he was talking about, but with the word "wizard" in it, I decided I didn't really need to know.

Harry bought our tickets and led me to a pair of seats near the back. I hadn't really been paying attention to him when he was purchasing them, so I didn't know how the driver knew where to take us, but I trusted Harry to get us to his Diagon Alley.

It only took us squeezing between two double-decker buses to get me to stop looking out the window. The driver, who I heard someone call Ernie, drove like a maniacal hamster high on caffeine. I thought we were going to die so many times, but Harry just sat next to me quietly, gently holding my hand. More for my sake than his, I was sure.

After a little while, we made it to London, and we pulled in front of this manky looking shop front. I didn't see any people about, but Harry motioned me up and we grabbed our trunks. Harry waved to the pimple-faced teen with the tickets and the driver, Ernie, before leading me to the door of the shop.

As we got closer, I could barely make out words on the window. They matched the equally faded words on the sign above the door: **The Leaky Cauldron**. I didn't know what a leaky cauldron was, but it didn't really sound inviting. This whole world of Harry's was really giving me the creeps, but I wanted to stay with him, so I didn't complain.

Inside, I noticed that this place wasn't a shop at all; it was a pub, a pub that was bustling with activity from all of the many patrons inside. I was shocked. From outside, you'd think that this place was abandoned, but in here, it was all warmth and activity and noise. It actually felt pretty comforting. Harry led us through the packed room and up to the bar, where a bald man was serving drinks.

"Hey, Tom!" Harry called out to the man, obviously knowing him.

"Why, Harry. Didn't expect to see you 'round here so soon. What'll it be? Can I get you a nice Butterbeer?"

"Oh, um, no thanks. Actually we need a room. Just for tonight, at least. We're going to head into Diagon Alley for a little bit of shopping."

"Aye? And who's this then? Never seen him come with you before." Tom, the bar man, seemed to be pretty suspicious of me. I didn't know that I liked his probing eyes, even if they were set in a friendly face. It seemed as though he could see right through me, and I didn't like it.

"Oh, uh, this is my friend, Dudley, from back home. His aunt was a witch, so he knows all about us. We've been given permission to do a little early shopping so that we can get a head start on the new school year, even though we haven't received our lists yet." Harry was good at putting these people to ease, it seemed. Tom's face broke out into a large, comfortable smile and he nodded along with Harry's words. He pulled out a stick, a lot like Harry's actually, and pointed it towards the upper floor. It swished a couple of times, and then came down with a sharp flick. He then turned back to my cousin with the same smile on his face.

"Okay then. It'll be the third door on the right. Just giver 'er a tap with your wand once you're up there, and you two'll be the only ones allowed in. It's always good to have you staying here with us, Mr. Potter. Give my regards to Dumbledore when you see him."

Harry waved at the man, so I did as well, and we made our way up a creaky staircase to our room. It wasn't too large, but there were two comfortable looking beds inside, and a large window overlooking what looked to be a bustling shopping lane. When I pointed it out to Harry, he smiled.

"Oh, that's Diagon Alley. It's got just about anything a wizard would possibly need. From here, you can see Eeylops Owl Emporium, Madam Malkin's robe shop, oh, and there's Florean Fortescue's, and over there, do you see that large white building? That's Gringotts. It's a wizard bank. That's where we're headed. Ready?"

Actually, I wasn't really ready to step out into that crazy magical world, but Harry wanted to go, and I knew that if I complained, he might make me go back home. So, I bucked up and said, "Sure."

The pub was just as crowded as when we first walked in, and it took us several minutes to walk through the room and out through a back door. People kept on stopping us to shake Harry's hand. He looked really uncomfortable with all the attention, even though he had a smile on his face. I was surprised that everyone seemed to know his name, even though it looked like Harry hadn't met most of these people before. I remembered that Harry said a psycho was after him, but I didn't realize that meant everyone knew who he was. It worried me that he was so well known, because that meant that it would be harder for us to hide.

I leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear once we finally managed to get away from most people, "Harry, are you sure it's safe for us to be here? What if that psycho shows up? All these people know who you are, and could easily point you out to him without knowing…"

Harry chuckled while he was shaking a young girl's hand. She was blonde and looked to be French. After she simpered and ran away to her parents, Harry grabbed me firmly by the elbow and led me outside before anyone else could shake his hand.

"Don't worry about people turning me over to that madman. No one will. See, I'm something of a celebrity in the wizarding world. Everyone knows who I am, because I'm a symbol to them. They think that I am the one who will take down this psycho and save them all from his reign of terror. Dudley, this isn't just your every day kind of crazy person. This man, this monster, is a very powerful dark wizard. Everyone knows who he is too, though not many have actually seen him. But, like me, he has characteristics that make his appearance unmistakable.

"I've seen this man, though. I know what he looks like, but I'm not afraid of him. He's been trying to kill me since I was a baby, and I defeated him then. That's why I'm so famous. This scar," Harry pulled up his fringe and showed me the slightly red scar on his forehead, "is what everyone looks for when they see my face. People know me by that, and my messy hair and my green eyes. Likewise, people know Voldemort by his red eyes, his white, scaly skin, and the crackling of dark magic surrounding him."

Harry's description of the madman scared me. I didn't want him to be hunted by a man like that. I couldn't protect him from someone so powerful. But, it didn't look like I had any say in the matter.

"You said that he's been trying to kill you since you were a baby, but you defeated him then. If you defeated him, how can he still be trying to kill you?"

"When I was fifteen months old, he came after my family. My dad was killed first, trying to give mum and me time to get away. But, we were trapped in the nursery, and we had nowhere to go. Voldemort burst into the room and told my mother that she would live if only she handed me over. My mum wouldn't do it. She held me in her arms and curled her body around mine. He killed her, because she wouldn't move. When he tried to kill me too, it backfired. It killed him instead. Or at least, it killed his body. His soul was sent to roam the earth.

"I don't know exactly what happened after that, but I do know that in my first year at Hogwarts, he tried to kill me again. He was a parasite, living off of the life force of one of his followers. I defeated him again, and his soul was sent to roam once more.

"In my second year, he had one of his followers, Lucius Malfoy, slip a cursed diary to my best mate Ron's little sister. She was almost killed because of it, but I destroyed the book and set her free. Voldemort didn't win again."

My mouth hung open and I was shocked. I never knew that my cousin, so much smaller and weaker than myself, was actually so strong. He faced and fought a crazy man two years in a row. And he was still alive, and still happy, and still pure. I couldn't believe it.

"So, for two years, you fought this guy. What happened to him after you destroyed the diary?"

"I don't really know. He didn't come after me third year. That year, I met my godfather. I miss him."

I wanted to know more about this godfather of Harry's, as we've never heard that he had one, but I wanted to know more about the psycho guy first. It seemed like Harry had been through so much, and yet…he was still willing to go through more. There was so much I didn't know about my cousin.

"Ok, so your first year you were almost killed, and your second year, someone else was almost killed, and—"

Harry interrupted, "No, well, yeah, but I was almost killed that year too. I had to fight a giant snake."

"All right, so you were almost killed first _and_ second year, but third year you were okay?"

"No, third year, I was almost killed twice. Once by Dementors, and once by a werewolf. But, the werewolf was actually my dad's friend Remus, and he had just forgotten to take his potion."

"Ok. What about fourth year? And last year?" I didn't really want to know how many times someone had tried to kill my sweet Harry, but on the other hand, I _needed_ to know. I didn't like the way my parents treated Harry, but he was right that they never would have killed him. But it seemed these wizards had no problems with that. Every year in school, my cousin had been attacked and almost killed. And Harry didn't seem angry about it at all.

Harry smiled a little sadly, and curled in on himself a little bit. We were still standing out behind the Leaky Cauldron, but neither of us really minded. It was much more important that we have this talk than for use to continue shopping and such. I moved forward and placed one of my large hands on Harry's small shoulder, offering what little comfort I had to give him.

He smiled up at me in thanks and moved even closer, laying his head on my shoulder, slightly draping his arms about my waist. Anyone could see us like this, but it didn't look like he cared. He needed me more than he needed his image.

"Fourth year was probably one of my hardest years so far at Hogwarts. That was the year that the two other magical schools—Beauxbatons girls' school in France, and Durmstrang school for boys in Bulgaria—came to Hogwarts for the triwizard tournament. The tournament is only supposed to have three participants, but one of Voldemort's followers threw my name in the cup and charmed it to accept me too. I was forced to participate in one of the deadliest tournaments the wizarding world has, and I was just fourteen.

"It was hard because I almost got killed by a rampaging dragon, a group of blood-thirsty mermaids, and then finally…by Voldemort himself."

I couldn't help myself; I gasped. I never expected Voldemort himself to be able to hurt Harry. He was just a spirit after all, but it seemed as though I was wrong and there wasn't something adding up about Harry's statement.

"How could Voldemort himself almost kill you? He was just a soul, right? You said that his soul was roaming. Soul's can't kill people, right?"

Harry shook his head at me sadly, as if to say, "No, Dudley, souls _can_ kill people." It scared me, and I didn't want it to be true. I wanted Harry to smile like he did before, with that girl in the pub, and tell me this was all just a really bad joke. Instead, he just curled into me a little tighter and took a deep breath.

"It was Voldemort's soul that almost killed Ginny back in second year, but it wasn't his soul that tried to kill me in fourth. Wormtail, one of Voldemort's most loyal and cowardly servants, found a way to bring the monster back to life. But, in order to do that, they needed me. They strung me up in a graveyard in Little Hangleton and cut my arm, forcibly taking my blood for the potion. It brought him back to life before my eyes, and after he was whole again, he let me down so that I could duel him 'fairly'. There wasn't anything fair about it. Voldemort is a seventy-year-old wizard; he's had time to master dark and light spells both. And I was only fourteen at the time. He had a lot of years on me.

"But that wasn't even the worst part about that year. It was the death of a friend, Cedric Diggory, that really hurt. It was my fault. I made him take the cup with me. If I could have been just a little more selfish, then I would have been the only one to be taken to that graveyard. But Cedric was there too, and he was killed just for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"When I was fighting Voldemort, something happened with our wands, and the spirits of my mum and dad, and even Cedric, came out and they all smiled at me. Mum and Dad told me how proud they were of me, and how much they loved me, and Cedric asked me to take his body back to his father. I was happy to see them, but at the same time, it hurt."

I felt such pity and sadness for Harry. He had to deal with so much hurt and loss, so much anguish and guilt. He thought all of their deaths were his fault, when none of them were. I held him as close as I could and kissed his brow, right next to his famous scar. He moaned a little into my chest, but other than that, made no motion. I still wanted to know what else happened to him, but I could see that it was too hard for him. Especially being here out in the open.

Leaning down again, I whispered in his ear, "Don't worry, you don't have to tell me the rest. It's hard for you; I can see that. How about we just go to that bank of yours, get some of them galleons or whatever, and go back up to the room. If you want then, you can tell me more, otherwise, we can just sleep. Does that sound good?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Harry**

I never knew that Dudley could be so gentle and soft. As I was telling him about the horrors I faced at Hogwarts, he didn't tease me, or make it worse by interrupting a lot. He just held me, and only asked questions when something really didn't make sense. He let me vent, but was also there to comfort me when the telling got too hard. For that, I loved him.

"Yeah, sound's good, Dud. But, after the bank, I'd like to get some ice cream. We can get some really good stuff at Florean Fortescue's. Then, I think if you hold me, I can tell you the rest in our room." I smiled at Dudley to let him know that I was okay, even if my voice wavered and there were a few standing tears in my eyes. He smiled back and wiped my eyes, giving me another sweet kiss on the forehead.

It was at that point that we were interrupted. I had been amazed, before, that no one had tried to come back here and bother us, or get in to Diagon Alley. But, we had been peacefully left alone until now. And of course, with my stupid luck, it was one of the last people I wanted to see.

"Oi, Potter, see you've got yourself a boyfriend. How nice…not!" Draco Malfoy always thought his taunts were so original, but to be honest, Dudley had usually come up with better insults.

"And what brings you through the Leaky Cauldron like a commoner, _Malfoy_?" I tried to inject as much venom as I could into my words, though I'm sure they didn't hold the same affect as they would have if I hadn't still been in Dudley's arms and if I didn't still have the wayward tear in my eye.

Malfoy noticed and taunted me all the more. "What, did he decide that dating a _scar-head_ was too much of a hassle and let you down? Did little Potty get dumped by his fat lump of a boyfriend?"

I was certain, then, that Malfoy's powers of observation were seriously lacking. If Dudley had indeed dumped me, why would he be holding on to me as if we were about to start snogging in the back courtyard? Honestly, Malfoy was just dumb.

"Sod off, Malfoy. What me and mine do behind pubs is none of your business." Rather clever, I thought.

Malfoy scoffed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. As he did so, his goons came up behind him from inside the pub. Crabbe and Goyle were still chewing whatever it was that they had stuffed in their mouths, and Pansy had her arm draped around Draco's waist. But, it was the last person who stepped up to their group that held any interest to me at all.

A lithe black boy moved in on Draco's right side, obviously more important to the blonde aristocrat than the pug-faced girl on his left. I was intrigued mostly due to the fact that Blaise Zabini was never seen with Malfoy outside of Hogwarts. Everyone knew that Pansy was betrothed to the annoying blonde pain in the arse, and Crabbe and Goyle would die if Malfoy didn't tell them to breathe, but Zabini was perfectly capable of standing on his own as well as garnering his own followers. Why he would _want_ to be one of Malfoy's lackeys was beyond me.

"New servant, Malfoy?"

The pointy Slytherin scowled at me, but it was Blaise who spoke. "Who Draco wishes to surround himself with is none of your concern, Potter. It would serve you well to keep that unfortunate nose of yours out of other people's affairs."

I could have laughed at the look on Malfoy's face when Blaise so calmly tossed me a barb. It didn't bother me, of course, but the look on Malfoy's face was worth weathering the disdainful glares of the others in the group. Dudley had released me from his arms and had moved to slightly stand in front of me, even though he knew that these teens were wizards. He still wished to protect me. It was when Dudley moved a little more in front of me, clearly in a defensive stance, that Malfoy decided that he could taunt us for it.

"What, you need a fat _muggle_ to protect you now, Potter? Can't do it yourself?"

I cringed inwardly at the fact that Draco had figured out that Dudley wasn't a wizard, but then realized that a wizard's first reaction would have been to pull his wand and train it at Malfoy. Dudley, unfortunately, was all about fighting with physical strength. In a duel, Malfoy would probably win.

I didn't have a retort. I was growing sick and tired of fighting with Malfoy, and I knew that Dudley wasn't quick witted enough to form a proper comeback, so I merely turned away and pulled my wand, tapping at the bricks to the entrance of Diagon Alley. Dudley was still behind me; presumably protecting my back from those he considered threats. But I knew that Malfoy was too smart to start throwing curses here, when every patron of the Leaky Cauldron would have been on my side.

The bricks slid away and the Alley was revealed. I turned just enough to grab a hold of Dudley and started quickly towards Gringotts. I just wanted to get my money and leave, my stomach even souring at the thought of ice cream.

As we passed Eeylops Owl Emporium, I felt a pang of sorrow. I missed Hedwig something awful, but I knew there was nothing for it. She was gone, and it was all thanks to Vernon. I could always get another owl, but nothing could replace the first present I ever received.

I'm sure that Dudley saw my twinge of pain, but thankfully, he didn't say anything. He simply turned to look more fully at the Emporium as we walked by, a slightly thoughtful expression on his face.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

After the trip to Gringotts, I still wasn't much in the mood for ice cream, so I asked Dudley if he wouldn't mind just going back to the pub and our room. He agreed with me, probably wanting to know more about my past. I was tired, and not really sure if I wanted to relive the horrors of my fifth year for him, but I figured I'd wait and see what happened when we got back to our room.

As we walked down the white marbled front steps of the bank, Dudley pointed to a dark looking side alley. "What's that?"

I looked around for a second, then remembered. "Oh, that's the entrance to Knockturn Alley. That's the place where all the dark arts books and artifacts are located. I've been down there once, when I took the wrong floo connection…"

Dudley's face scrunched up a bit, but he refrained from asking any more questions. I figured he probably realized that I wasn't much in the mood for answering questions and just wanted to get back. He slipped his hand in mine, and we continued on to the pub and our warm room.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Dudley**

Harry was beautiful, even when he was exhausted and irritated. I couldn't help but stare at him throughout our trip to that "Diagon Alley" place. It was especially hard not to watch him when he was in the bank. The way he talked to those creatures, and then how he modestly grabbed his gold, and then changed it into Pounds. He was adorable.

On our walk back to our room, I felt the overwhelming urge to hold him, cuddle him, kiss him. But I didn't. We passed a side street, and I asked him what it was.

"What's that?"

"Oh, that's the entrance to Knockturn Alley. That's the place where all the dark arts books and artifacts are located. I've been down there once, when I took the wrong floo connection…" He trailed off and looked away, as if remembering something not particularly pleasant.

My face scrunched in, as I wondered what he could be remembering, and I really wanted to ask him more about it, but just seeing how exhausted and defeated he looked, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I slipped his hand into my own and dragged him along behind me back to our room.

I had so many plans to cheer up my sweet black haired boy. I thought that maybe a nice hot bath would get him relaxed and feeling more comfortable. Then, when his muscles had loosened up a bit and he was warm, I could kiss him into sweet compliance. If he were into it, then I'd move on to something a bit…lustier. I remembered the hot fun we had in the shower back home, and I wanted some more.

"Hey, Dud…are you okay?"

I looked down at my cousin and noted the concerned look on his face. "Sure, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, you just stopped in the middle of the way here, and you've kinda been smirking to yourself and laughing softly. Are you sure you're all right?"

I blushed a little and bent my head down. "Yeah, I'm all right. I was just thinking."

"Do I want to know what about?"

I blushed even harder and scuffed the toe of my left trainer against the ground. "Probably not…you might hit me."

Harry laughed and lightly smacked my arm. He didn't say anything, but I knew he was already feeling better when he leaned against me with his hand still clenched tight in mine.

Sometimes, he surprised me with how little he was concerned with what others thought about his relationship with me. From what he told me, most—if not all—of the Wizarding world shopped here…yet he was content enough to lean into me and walk with me like he was my boyfriend…which I suppose he was…though it wasn't like we had talked about it.

"We're here, Dud. Let's head upstairs…unless you'd rather get something to eat?"

"Nah, upstairs is good. I was thinking that a hot bath sounded nice. What do you think?"

Harry cocked his head to the side and appraised me for a moment. Then, his face broke out into a beautiful grin and he pulled me up the stairs quickly, then into the adjoining bathroom in our room. I could tell how eager he was to get his mind into something far more entertaining than his sordid past.

"I've always wanted to take a bath with someone. I think it'll be fun." The slightly lecherous look on his face made me smile, and imagine even more dirty things we could do after the bath was over.

"Sounds great, luv." And I meant it. It did sound wonderful, to have a bath with Harry. When I originally suggested taking a bath, I just assumed he'd want to do it alone. But it was so much better that he wanted to do it with me instead.

Harry smiled brilliantly at me and tugged me close to himself. I automatically wrapped my rather large arms around his tiny waist and leaned my blonde head on his bony shoulder. He sighed happily and attempted to wrap his slender arms around my bulk as well. I took in a deep breath of his scent and hummed my own contentment.

"Are we going to stand here cuddling, or are we going to get into this steaming hot tub?"

I was about to agree that getting in the bath would be nice, though cuddling here was fine in my book too, when all of his words crashed into me. "Wait, steaming hot? When did that happen? We just walked in here…"

"House elves, I imagine. Most patrons probably don't want to have to draw their own baths."

"House elves? What, is everyone in the Wizarding world too lazy to do simple things for themselves?"

Harry laughed and kissed me softly. "Pretty much."

I shook my head, but quickly took advantage of the magical convenience. I shucked my shirt and pants before I realized that Harry was just standing there staring at me.

"What?"

He laughed at me and shook his head. "Nothing." Then, he took off his own shirt and pants, standing next to me in matching boxer shorts. I stared at his pale, smooth flesh and was amazed. He was so small in almost every way. Compared to me, it was comical. I was so large, bulky, and cumbersome. I never could see what he did in me.

"What do you see in me, Harry?"

Harry creased his brow in a frown and leaned in to me, getting in my face. "What the hell do you mean, 'What do you see in me?' I see a very sexy man who makes me happy and knows how to please a bloke."

"Is that all you see in me, a bloke to have sex with?"

His brow furrowed even more and he swore softly under his breath, though I still caught the gist of what he was saying. "Damn it, Dud. You know damn well that I love you, more than anything. What's with the serious questions all of a sudden?"

"Sorry. I just…looking at you…God, Harry. You're amazing. You've a great body, and seeing you like that, in just a pair of my old shorts… I can't believe someone as beautiful as you would ever want a fat lump like me."

Harry snorted and pulled me into a rough kiss, pushing all of his passion and love into so that I almost drowned in the sensations. "Does that prove to you that I love you, everything about you?"

I nodded and continued to snog my boyfriend, sweeping my tongue through his mouth and claiming him for my own. I loved this boy, more than anyone really knew, and having him adamantly refuse that there was anything wrong with me…it warmed my heart and made me love him even more.

He moaned into the kiss and lightly bumped his cloth-covered erection into my own, swirling his tongue into my mouth. I loved it and fought back with my own moist appendage. Our arms entwined and our hips thrust against each other. I was definitely ready to move forward, but Harry had other ideas. He moved himself backward just enough to get his hands on the waistband of my shorts and tug down.

"Harry!" I blushed and tried to cover myself, still a bit self-conscious about him seeing me naked.

"Yes, love?" He singsonged, quite happy with himself.

"Why did you do that? I mean…I could have…if you just asked."

"Oh, stop whinging you big baby and kiss me."

I couldn't exactly argue with that, so I complied. I gave him the best snogging of his life, or so I hoped, and held him close. I loved listening to his noises and feeling his hands on me. I loved him, plain and simple. I used his distraction to pull off his shorts too, so that we both could be bared to each other.

"Harry?"

He gave me a slightly annoyed look, but answered all the same. "Yeah?"

I smiled and moved deeper into the embrace of my lover, rubbing his cock against my own. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too. Now fuck me already."

Again, I couldn't argue with him, so I complied. I took one hand and used it to grab his arse, pulling his groin flush with my own. We both moaned at the delicious contact, and Harry wriggled his hips a bit to show his appreciation. One of my meaty digits sought out his puckered entrance, and thought it was dry, I gently eased it into his tight opening.

_Hiss._ "Damn, Dud. You could warn a body before you go sticking large objects into such a tight hole."

I chuckled softly and gently admonished, "Well, luv, if you'd relax a bit, it wouldn't hurt. Remember last time? You were so relaxed, it only took me two minutes to get you stretched enough to fit my cock in your hole."

He blushed a deep crimson and buried his face in my neck. I loved making him react like that, but I loved it even more when he was moaning my name in pleasure. I used my other hand, the one not probing his tight little arse, to tease the tip of his cock and get his mind off of my finger in his depths. Then, while he was properly distracted, I managed to wiggle my digit inside of him deep enough to hit his sweet spot.

"Oh, Dudley!" I smiled as my black haired lover called out my name, throwing his head back with his eyes screwed shut.

"D'you like that?"

He hissed something that I didn't understand, but made my balls tighten a little and my cock bounce, then nodded his head quickly. "Yeah. Oh, Dud, that's good. Fuck me!"

I laughed softly and wiggled my finger deeper in his arse. When I thought Harry would start crying if I didn't go forward, I inserted a second finger, scissoring it with the first. Harry whimpered and tried to fuck himself on my appendage, but I wouldn't let him move that much. My other hand was still wrapped around his rock-hard pole and teasing his little slit there.

"Do you like it when I tease your holes, my little slut?"

He hissed a few more things in that odd language he seemed to be making up and bucked as much as he could in my arms. I didn't know what he was saying, but whatever it was was making me want to fuck him hard and fast.

"You ready, Harry?"

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

**Harry**

I was on fire. Every nerve in my body was screaming and I felt as if I would die if Dudley didn't pound his meat into me _right_ _now_. I hissed, _Damn it, Dudley. Fuck me senseless. I want you inside of me. Please, right here. Just do it, fuck me, please! _ I knew that he wouldn't understand me, as I had slipped into Parseltongue, but I needed to say it anyways.

He reacted better than I thought he would. His prick stood up a bit straighter and I could feel his stones tightening. I hoped that would mean he would take mercy on me and just stuff me already, but of course he couldn't do what I had wanted him to. He took his sweet time with me, adding a second finger to the first and stretching me even more.

I knew that I shouldn't be angry about his consideration, that tomorrow I'd appreciate his gentle care to stretch my hole, but right now I just wanted to be filled with him, and his fingers just weren't enough. I was getting fed up with the slow pace we were moving at and I wanted more.

_God damn it, just move you fucking piece of shite! If you don't fuck me right now, you're never getting any ever again. I'll go...fuck Draco Malfoy if I have to. Just give it to me!_

Dudley must have gotten the hint that time, as he asked me breathlessly, "You ready, Harry?" Damn straight was I ready. I nodded quickly, feeling like one of those novelty toys that Americans were so fond of putting in their cars.

"Please," was the only word I felt as though I could manage in English. I wanted him so badly that I didn't know what to do anymore. Luckily, I didn't have to wait any longer. Dudley pulled out his two large fingers and replaced them with his even larger cock, impaling me most wonderfully on his hard shaft.

"Oh, luv," he moaned, sinking impossibly deeper inside of me. It was bliss, pure heaven, and I never wanted it to end. I loved every moment of this illicit play we were engaged in. I tightened my ring around the base of his prick and urged him silently to move within me. I wanted to be fucked, rough and fast.

He obliged me, pumping inside of me quickly, hitting my prostate with every other thrust, sending me spiraling out of control. I broke down, sobbing in Parseltongue all of my frustration, happiness, and pleasure. I was so high on the waves of pleasure that I felt as though I would die of it. I thought that would be the way to go.

If Dudley had wanted to make me forget about all of the unpleasantness of my past, he had surely succeeded. My mind was rapidly shutting down, and the only thing that mattered in the world was him. His large hands, one on my arse holding me up, the other wrapped tight around my own cock, pumping it in time with his thrusts, drawing me all the closer to climax. His plump pink lips, both kissing and nibbling along my neck and jaw, drawing pleased little whimpers from me every time he grazed against one of my weak points.

"Dudley…" I moaned and whimpered at the same time. I was close, so very close, and I didn't think I could last much longer. I didn't know if I even wanted to.

He seemed to get that hint too, and sped up his thrusting into me and his hand pumping my shaft. I wanted to come so badly, but I also wanted him to come with me. I tightened and released the muscles of my sphincter, massaging along his cock, urging him to the edge as I was.

In moments, it was over, both of use coming hard and crying out each other's names. It was bliss, and I felt a happiness that only he would ever bring me, a happiness I'd only felt one time before.

"Love you," I whispered, laying my sweaty forehead against his shoulder, heaving in breathes as though I hadn't breathed for years.

"Love you, too," he whispered back, kissing my neck. "I feel…sticky."

I laughed, mirroring his sentiment. It was quite amusing to me that we were very dirty in the bath, but I didn't share. I instead leaned us forward a bit and grabbed my wand from the side of the tub where I had left it when we had slipped into the bath for sex. I waved it in a slightly complicated pattern that I barely had enough energy to execute and cleaned and warmed the water so that we could relax and take a proper bath this time.

"Let me help you with that, all right?" I asked, grabbing the flannel and soaping it up with a nice masculine smelling soap. I rubbed it all over his body, cleaning off the evidence of our tryst. As I rinsed off the suds I had caused, I kissed each clean patch of skin, showing my mate how much I loved and appreciated him.

**End Chapter 2**


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